


Help In Low Places

by shnuffeluv



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, Depression, Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 13:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16535072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/shnuffeluv
Summary: Roman is going through some tough times. Virgil just wants to help.





	Help In Low Places

Roman hadn’t been feeling quite right recently. He didn’t know what brought it on, but he wasn’t feeling at one-hundred percent, or even eighty percent. He felt like maybe he was running at forty percent battery an hour away from home without a charger. And it felt horrible.

All he wanted to do was to help Thomas, but lately he couldn’t even find it in him to do that. His creativity was dried up, every idea he had was unoriginal (more so than usual, to the point where he didn’t suggest any of his ideas to Thomas), and he just wanted to curl up in a ball and ride out this wave of self-loathing. He knew that wouldn’t work, though. Whenever he hit a dry spell like this, he could never just “wait it out”. He always tried to push through it until eventually he actually succeeded.

That was the thing, though. He had tried and tried and nothing seemed to be working. Not even his tried and true busting through artist’s block tricks had helped. His mind drifted to the other facets and the possibilities of what might happen if they found out. Logan would give a long-winded lecture about the way creativity worked that boiled down to “don’t push it if it isn’t working.” Patton would make Roman work on something simple to try and get his creative juices flowing until something actually clicked, but Roman had already tried that. Virgil would…Roman frowned sat up from where he was lying on his bed. Virgil would listen to him, maybe try to help.

Or would he? It wouldn’t be surprising if Virgil tried to get back at him for his terrible treatment of the facet when he was popping up before. Roman just had to push through this himself, he guessed. He’d make it work, he was Roman, the greatest Disney Prince to ever inhabit Thomas’ brain!

…The  _only_  Disney Prince to ever inhabit Thomas’ brain.

* * *

A week went by. Roman was desperate. His room was littered with crumpled-up balls of paper listing thousands of worthless ideas. The self-loathing had kicked into high gear and Roman just wanted it all to  _stop stop stop_  so he could be  _useful_  again so he could have his  _rightful place back_  so he could prove that he wasn’t  _worthless_ –

“Hey,” a soft voice said, tapping his arm. “You okay? You look like you’re trying to grind your teeth into little tiny nubs.”

“Thanks for that imagery, Virgil,” Roman grumbled, shaking his head.

“What’s up? You’ve been…subdued,” Virgil said, sitting next to Roman on the couch in the living room.

“It’s nothing,” Roman said. Despite wanting to ask Virgil for help, his brain was screaming that was a bad idea, that he was going to be mocked and ridiculed and that would just prove his worthlessness and he could  _never_  return to normal if he admitted his weaknesses.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Virgil said idly. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

Roman looked over at Virgil suspiciously. “…Do  _you_?”

“I like Disney’s dark side, or have you forgotten?” Virgil asked with a smile. “I’ll put in  _The Black Cauldron_  if you don’t pick a movie in the next ten seconds.”

Roman scoffed. “Now you’re just trying to make fun of me.”

“Nine…”

“There’s no way you’d actually want to watch a movie with me,” Roman said, crossing his arms.

“Eight…”

Roman’s shoulders slumped as it became obvious Virgil was serious. “Virgil…”

“Seven…”

“I don’t know, okay?” Roman said.

Virgil stopped his countdown. “Don’t know what? What movie to watch?”

“Don’t know much of anything,” Roman admitted. “Bad artist’s block.”

“Depression,” Virgil said.

“No, just writer’s block,” Roman said.

“With you, they’re interchangeable. You don’t have major depressive disorder but you do get less-serious periods of depression which make it hard for you to get creative. And trust me when I say if I’ve noticed, the others are suspecting something’s up,” Virgil said.

Roman slumped. “What do I do?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged. “Write about how frustrated you are?” he suggested.

Roman scoffed. “Okay, now you’re  _definitely_  mocking me.”

“No, I’m serious.” Virgil shrugged. “It helps me when I don’t feel right.”

“You  _never_  feel right,” Roman said suspiciously.

“When I feel less-right than usual, then,” Virgil said. “Oh, and don’t let the others catch you scowling into your lap. It’s a sure-fire signal that you’re self-loathing, and if you want to keep them off your back you can’t make them worried.”

Virgil stood up and just as he was about to leave the room, Roman said, “Virgil, do you think…you could watch that movie with me?”

Virgil turned around and shrugged. “Sure. What do you want it to be?”

“ _The Little Mermaid_?” Roman asked. “Please?”

Virgil rolled his eyes but smiled. “Whatever makes you happy, Princey. Whatever makes you happy.”

**Author's Note:**

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